How To Hide Yr Eyes

No, baby, that's fear.  I wonder if he felt it, before he said to no one in particular, "I am falling off the cliff."

What does a brain bleed really mean and how do we stanch it, or do we, or should we, and these are not really questions, but groans.  I last saw him conducting, contre jour.  We smiled and waved.  I wondered then and now what I looked like to him as I skipped away off his back porch, like the kid I am.  There is so much to remember, so many promises we make, to ourselves and to one another.  I need to remember to skip.  Skipping is the most joyful way to walk.  And sometimes we have to convince ourselves that we are so, that we can still be so, when the little things that seem big make us rage and bitterly weep.  How do you say "you have been a good person" but in different words?  How to say "do not go yet" in a way that isn't selfish?  How to sleep?  How to not bawl?  How to not feel like a tempest inside?  How to make throat lumps go away?  How to be brave or how to at least try?  How to be both positive and realistic?  How to lose with dignity?  These are also not questions.  These are lamentations.

I want to be there and nowhere near there.  I want a hundred thousand contradictions.  Maybe more.  I want tantrums.  I want eyes that don't go hazy or fuzzy.  I want anything but this.  I want everything but this.  I want to fly, but not there.

Fuck you, everything and everyone.